Ladylike
by bxltonvixen
Summary: Littlefinger’s grip on the North isn’t strong enough even with Sansa Stark in his hands, so he comes up with a new scheme. A doppelgangër is sent to Winterfell to tie the knot with Ramsay Bolton why the real Sansa Stark gets ready for the next part of his plan - to marry his father, Lord Roose Bolton and get rid of him as soon as possible.


With his wide range of brothels spread across the capital, it wasn't very hard to scout a redheaded demon. On the other hand, finding a whore both twisted enough to agree to his plan and accordingly innocent-looking was much more of a task for Petyr Baelish. Eventually, a girl, ready and willing to ruin her dear life, was found in the depths of Flea Bottom. Most of Petyr's investment into his own establishment turned against him as soon as he displayed his generous offer amongst his girls. None of them were interested in being massacred by a bastard boy known for his sadistic desires. At that point, Baelish had to set his expectations a lot lower and degrade himself by waltzing down the streets of the filthiest part of King's Landing.

And there she was, delicious in her own way, fair and young with head full of fiery red curls. Not as delicious as Lady Sansa, but the mad dog didn't deserve any kind of gift from the hands of his future destructor. She was not a whore, though. Just a simple common girl, probably an orphan, trying to survive in the streets of King's Landing. Poor thing. Petyr Baelish was close, painfully close to fulfilling his own dream - to gain a massive amount of power, all that with Sansa by his side. It required an awful lot of investment from both him and her, but Lady Sansa was quick and witty and it didn't take him long to inject the thought into her curious brain. You've been a bystander all your life. Stop being a bystander. You loved your family. Avenge them. The sweet words poured from his tongue and Sansa's teary eyes couldn't look away. The Tully blue in them has shifted and that was when Petyr knew that she was his to play with. To teach.

*

Once more, he passed the Bloody Gate with a girl with auburn hair hidden under her hood. This time, she held no title, no highborn ancestry, only a good amount of sadness and despair in her heart. He promised her much higher standarts of living, the thought of becoming a Lady of a noble house did wonders. The poor girl was more than eager to participate. To her sorrow, she may learn about the wrongness of her decision in no time. But what does it matter, Lord Baelish thought, if Sansa remains unharmed. The viper and his pawn entered The Eyrie. The guards had no idea of what plan Petyr was bearing in his mind, nor they showed any kind of displeasure with bringing an unknown girl in their territory. After all, Lord Protector of the Vale was a respected figure, not prone to be played with.

"Lady Sansa," he drawled as soon as he saw her. Sansa's head shot up and her lips parted in surprise. She was sitting on the small wall next to the Moon Door, its entrance wide open, the winds howling and the mountains dangerously prickling the surrounding clouds. She stood up and curtsied to Lord Baelish, just a second before she slowly moved towards the girl next to him. Sansa carefully removed her hood and revelaed her hair, completely startled.

"The shade is considerably close to yours, Sweetling," Lord Baelish said, visibly proud of his discovery. Sansa turned her head to look him in the eye, then moved back to stare at the girl.

"What's your name?"

"Sansa, m'lady."

Sansa shook her head in disgust.

"No, your real name."

"I don't have any real name, m'lady."

Sansa marched towards Lord Baelish, the dark-haired snake's mouth curled up in a smirk. He was definitely satisfied with his pawn, with both of them. The fake Sansa just stood there, glancing around the hall, dutifully avoiding the Moon Door.

"You've already taught her..." How to act like a broken toy? Did he train her in the innocent, doe-eyed look? Did he tell her about all the sufferings Sansa went through? She was still uncertain about how this plan will play out. Ramsay Bolton may be a dull prick, but his father wasn't. Roose Bolton, amongst the common folk also known as Tywin Lannister of the North, definitely wasn't like his son. At least in terms of wits. What were the other aspects of his mind, Sansa didn't know. Excluding the traitorous murderer, Sansa thought, her heart sagging into her stomach. "How is she supposed to remember everything about me? What about the knowledge of other noble houses, their words, their sigils? What about my family, there's no way we could get through this, Lord Baelish."

His hand raised to cup her cheek. Sansa stared in his relaxed face, the look in her eyes stiff and piercing. He always looked so uninterested, so out of place. He probably day-dreamed most of the time, along with the wheels of his brain spinning in hurry when a new piece of information was given to him. Petyr Baelish was a strange man. His ambitions were written all over his handsome face, yet Sansa couldn't dig in.

"Worry not, Sansa. I've taken care of everything." He said that, so it as well might be true. Sansa had no other option but to trust him completely. He dragged her out of King's Landing in the first place. He killed her mad aunt for her. Her mind couldn't think of anything wrong he might be planning for her. His soft fingers felt like silk against her worried face, the metal kiss of his rings imprinting itself into her cheek like a brand. He should imprint himself into that other girl, too, Sansa thought.

"Is she at least a maid, Lord Baelish?"

Both of them turned to face the fake Sansa. The girl nodded slowly.

"I'll call a maester to inspect her," Petyr murmured.

Maybe you should inspect her yourself, Lord Baelish. Sansa didn't dare to say that. The imagine of her doppelgänger, spread wide across the bed, with Lord Baelish between her thighs, his ringed fingers curling deep inside, her pained moans implying that she truly was a maid sent a shiver of desire down Sansa's body, piling in her stomach. She'd never admit it, never to him, but she wanted the girl to experience what she couldn't have. A traitorous thought crossed her mind, but Sansa shooed it instantly. Even though her fingers curled inside her shoes with desire, she could never submit to him. Even though she wanted to.

Petyr caught her flaming gaze and his own eyes darkened to the point Sansa could no longer see any of the grey-green in them. His orbs turned into two gaping pits full of seductive darkness, waiting for Sansa to jump in and let herself be devoured. She quickly tore their eye contact and sat back beside the Moon Door, her hair gently swaying in the pouring wind.

"Come, girl. I'll escort you to your chambers myself," Petyr offered to the King's Landing prisoner taken away and Sansa found herself shifting uncomfortably. Lord Baelish glanced over his shoulder as his hand lingered on the small of her back. His eyes pierced her, the two dark orbs lured her to join them, but Sansa resisted and instead, internally moaned when the dampness started to grow between her legs. He might as well be able to read my mind.


End file.
